


On Open Seas

by bookwormninja



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 00:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13155147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormninja/pseuds/bookwormninja
Summary: Self-proclaimed Thief King Bakura, "the baddest pirate of any seas" may have bitten off more than he can chew when he decides to let a stowaway make himself comfortable aboard his ship. It comes as a surprise when this stranger is just the partner he needed to survive in his particular line of work.





	On Open Seas

 

Bakura was itching to leave port as soon as physically possible, as being stuck on land filled him with something close to anxiety. Not that he would admit that, of course. The plan was simple- dock, restock, leave. Easy. If only life were ever that simple.

 

Upon arriving at…whatever small seaside town this was, Bakura had been bombarded with nuisance after nuisance, setting his departure further and further back. First, the food had to be restocked, an easy enough task for his particular crew. Unfortunately, sometime between this stop and the last, his deck hands seemed to have acquired a more _refined_ taste, which had him travelling around from shop to shop to find and drag his crew back to the ship with an angry tirade he made sure every “spoiled brat” in the vicinity could hear. Then there was the rope debacle, which had Bakura going back out into the town to finish the supply gathering on his own.

 

What was the point in having a crew if you had to do all the stealing by yourself at the end of the day? It was something he thought about a lot these days, but trustworthy humans were so few and far between that Bakura abandoned the idea of trying to start fresh with a human crew years ago. Besides, he still very much got a kick out of seeing the terror in the faces of townspeople as they realize his crew are monsters… literally. Why rely on fickle humans when an ancient relic stolen from a monument to some god had the power to turn drawings to life? It was economical, really. A little more food every few weeks in return for keeping one hundred percent of all treasures plus a tireless, bloodthirsty crew?

 

It was perfect, aside from the fact that the gods always seemed to have a way of toying with Bakura. He had long since resigned himself to correcting the ways of his terrifying yet unintelligent crew of monsters. As useful as they were for raids and general pirating, they were less than ideal when it came to situations that required finesse.

 

Bakura gave a long suffering sigh of relief as they finally pulled away from port, his crew all back onboard and at their positions. Their next destination would take at least 2 months to reach, so as soon as they were off, Bakura went about doing what he usually did- bask in the treasures stored in his quarters.

 

“I must say, it took much longer to get away from that wretched place than I expected,” a voice Bakura did not recognize startled him out of his musings. Before the stranger could take another breath, Bakura had them incapacitated with his trusty knife at theirneck with a practised ease.

 

“Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now.” Normally, Bakura wasn’t one to go around giving second chances to those that had wronged him, but as there wasn’t much else to do at the moment he decided to have some fun before killing the intruder.

 

“Well, that would depend on what reason I could give that would help me to stay alive the longest,” the stranger said. Said person was putting up surprisingly little struggle despite their current situation. “But since you haven’t killed me yet with those impressive knife-wielding skills of yours, I’d say you maybe aren’t really planning on killing me at the moment.”

 

He was right. Bakura hated that he was right. He made a show of begrudgingly letting the stranger go, but not without “accidentally” pressing his knife a bit too hard against his neck. A little blood never hurt anyone.

 

“Let’s say I don’t kill you today,” Bakura said, once he was certain the stranger was unarmed. “What’s to keep me from killing you tomorrow, then?”

 

“Well,” the stranger started, sitting himself down on Bakura’s favorite plush chair. “I guess you will have to see tomorrow. My name is Marik, by the way. Marik Ishtar.”

 

* * *

 

Bakura  talked himself down from killing this “Marik” about 5 times the following day. The guy was completely useless on deck and insisted on making himself comfortable among Bakura’s prized possessions, even going so far as to _redecorate his quarters._ After he stopped seeing red at the mere idea of some stranger touching his stuff, Bakura had to admit that it made much more sense to actually utilize his desk as more than a place to pile junk onto. He would never say it to Marik’s face, but it was a change he was willing to keep.

 

The only thing Bakura was _sure_ Marik hadn’t touched was the ancient doohickey (a technical term, of course) that he kept on his person at all times. He hadn’t known the man for long but he had a pretty good idea the kind of mischief Marik could get up to with it just to tick him off.

 

He came to find, in the following weeks, that setting Bakura off was one of Marik’s favorite pastimes.

 

“Seriously,” Marik managed through laughter so hard he nearly fell from his-Bakura’s- chair, paying no mind to the face Bakura made at the water now soaking it through. “You should have seen your face!” Marik’s cackle was unfortunately becoming a regular part of Bakura’s adventuring, with his threats of murdering Marik going in one ear and out the other.

 

“I think all of my attention was on not drowning,” Bakura said, wringing his hair out before taking his soaked shirt off and tossing it into a corner. “No thanks to you.”

 

“Aw c’mon! How was I supposed to know you and your whole crew can’t swim!” Marik dodged a tightly balled towel to the face before he doubled over in laughter again. “What kind of pirate crew can’t swim, anyway. _How_ have you lived this long?”

 

“I will not explain myself to you. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been in the water in the first place!” Bakura’s face was set in a stubborn scowl, the one reserved strictly for Marik’s foolishness. “Quit your laughing and towel off. You’re getting water everywhere, and it takes forever for that material to dry.”

 

“You know, Bakura, you should really learn how to say ‘thanks’ every once in a while. Not everyone is as good at interpreting your grunts and scowls as I am.” Marik finished toweling off his hair before stealing one of Bakura’s nicer shirts for himself. “If I were anyone else, I would think that you hated me and just left you to drown. Thank the gods that I know better.”Brushing by Bakura on his way out of the room, he stopped and pressed a different shirt to the man’s still-bare chest. “Put a shirt on, before the crew starts getting any funny ideas about the two of us.” Marik winked and ran before Bakura could finish sputtering out a response.

 

* * *

 

The two month’s trip’ to their intended destination went by much faster than Bakura had anticipated, as the only mishap or stranger he and his crew encountered on their way was…. Marik. And the man counted as an _ongoing_ mishap in Bakura’s book.

 

“Marik.” Bakura resigned himself to the fact that there was no way the man would ever follow an order to stay on the ship while Bakura went off treasure hunting. “If you’re going to be following me around like a lost puppy, you may as well be in on the plan.”

 

Marik happily flopped himself down on his -Bakura gave up the fight days ago- chair and smiled, waiting for Bakura to continue.

 

“So,” Bakura said as he pulled out an old map. “This is what we’re looking for. Now, if I were just any old pirate, I’d be after something boring like some pharoah’s stinkin’ chalice or something.”

 

“You’re better than that,” Marik said, rolling his eyes at Bakura. “So, what are we stealing, then, hm? Wallpaper that depicts some epic battle to complete your…lovely decor?” Bakura halfheartedly tossed one of his many hidden knives in Marik’s direction. Of course, he missed, the projectile whizzing inches away from its “target” and embedding itself in the hole-ridden wall behind the man. The cheeky fool didn’t even flinch, not that Bakura was impressed or anything.

 

“Why yes I am better, thank you very much.” Bakura went back to outlining his plan. “I’m thinking I’ll be needing a new seat, seeing as _someone_ has decided to commandeer my furniture for their own use.”

 

“Now I wonder who that could possibly be,” Marik said. He kicked his feet up onto the arms of his chair at Bakura’s snort of laughter. “No seriously, I’d like to have a little chat with them. How _dare_ they mess with the great Bakura. Do they not know fear?”

 

“No, quite honestly I don’t think they do,” Bakura said. “They are either very brave or very stupid. Haven’t quite figured out which, yet.” Bakura let out a bark of laughter at Marik’s feigned affronted gasp. “Back to the business at hand, though. What I’m after, is a throne.”

 

“A throne. Seriously? You’re really not one to be humble, are you?”

 

“Excuse me, have we met?” Bakura got up to shake Marik’s hand. “I am Thief _King_ Bakura. Kings don’t have to be humble.” With a flourishing bow, Bakura left the quarters to make sure his crew was ready for action. “Are you joining me on this adventure, or will you simply sit there while I have all the fun?”

 

Marik quickly scrambled out of his seat to hurry after Bakura, a huge smile on his face

 

* * *

 

Adventuring with Bakura was not at all what Marik expected it to be. The man of few smiles and even fewer times where he wasn’t on Marik’s back about something he’d done wrong was finally in his element. Marik barely had to lift a finger- not that he would have done so otherwise. _This_ was what he’d jumped onto that pirate ship for.

 

Bakura, for once, was surprised at the lack of ineptitude on Marik’s end. Bakua favored secret operations, having mastered the art of moving in silence at a young age. It was one of his points of pride. Bakura, according to his own descriptions, was the best on any sea at stealth operations. “The envy of any pirate crew worth its salt”, he told Marik once.

 

His skills were definitely shining through, as Marik found himself talking less and concentrating more on following Bakura’s silent trail.  Marik wasn’t an amateur by any means, but seeing Bakura’s eyebrows raise in as close to an impressed expression as he’d seen thus far made him want to do his best. Besides, he knew for a fact that the man would not be adverse to having one of his monster crew forcibly carry Marik back to the ship for making the slightest noise.

 

The treasure they were after was hidden away, and from Bakura’s many sources, apparently  heavily guarded by a family that had been keeping watch over the ancient goods for generations. It would prove to be a challenge, especially with a new, untested crew member along for the ride. Bakura still wasn’t sure why he hadn’t killed Marik long ago, given the many headaches the man caused.

 

After an eternity -according to Marik’s internal clock- they finally snuck their way close enough to scope out the premises. As with any ancient temple that holds unknown valuables, it was rather deeply hidden in a dense jungle, with seemingly inanimate stone sentinels guarding the only visible entrance. Turning to Bakura to ask what the next step of the plan would be, Marik nearly tripped in his hurry to keep up with the man who apparently had other plans other entering through the front door. An interesting, yet unsurprising tactic for a pirate, he figured.

 

Bakura, noticing Marik’s slackened pace, merely pointed to the top of the structure with his chin to indicate the route they would be taking. Confused, Marik watched as the man pulled a medallion out from under his shirt that was hanging from a cord around his neck. The unassuming piece of jewelry twisted in the air in front of Bakura’s eyes as the man spoke a few words under his breath. Moments later, one of Bakura’s monster army silently stepped up, a pair of wings suddenly unfolding from its back.

 

There was no time for qualms about their mode of transportation, as Bakura hopped right onto the creature’s back without a backwards glance at his partner in crime. Marik barely had the chance to scramble astride the beast before it took to the sky, straight for an opening at the top of the ancient structure.

 

With surprising gentleness, the flying swarm of beasts alighted onto the ground inside the structure in silence, gathering into a formation around Bakura and Marik in a protective circle. Bakura silently motioned for the crew to follow as he ventured deeper into the building, a hand constantly at his side to rest on the hilt of his ever-present knife. Marik was given his own knife for the trip, thankfully not left completely defenseless no matter how funny Bakura kept insisting that would be.

 

After dodging a few decrepit and generally harmless booby traps, the crew found themselves in a chamber where gold and treasures were piled nearly to the ceiling. Bakura quickly grabbed Marik by the arm upon entering the room, giving him a look that could only be interpreted as “Do not. Touch. Anything”. Marik nodded his understanding, but Bakura did not let go of his arm immediately. He held on until they made their way out of the room, past all the treasure to a dusty and drab room some ways further in.

 

The room left much to be desired in terms of interior decoration, Marik noted. Much less interesting than the gold-filled room from before. Fewer spiderwebs covering everything and a much less darkly ominous feel. Marik liked the gold room much better, but Bakura was the bossman.

 

Said bossman was rifling through dirty piles of paper and seemingly worthless artifacts in search of, something. Not one to talk when Bakura was clearly deeply entrenched in one of his intense “moments”, Marik made himself useful by searching for the throne they came for. The task took a bit of rooting around, knocking piles of random objects off of throne-esque surfaces until he came upon the one engraved with symbols he recognized from Bakura’s map.

 

“Bakura!” Marik did his best to whisper at a level that the man could hear, but also not disturb the careful silence of their operation too much. Bakura looked up from comparing various documents against his own to check out Marik’s find.

 

“Good work, partner,” Bakura said. He slapped Marik on the back, and the two went about clearing the throne the rest of the way off for transport. Once clean, Bakura signalled two of his beasts to the area, whispering instructions for them to carry the cargo back to the ship. With the throne en route, Bakura stuffed the rest of the papers he was analyzing into his bags and began to signal for another lift when the floor of the building began to shake.

 

“Wha-,” Marik started, before scrambling forward to avoid falling through a sudden gap in the floor beneath them.

 

“We need to run, now!” Run they did. Bakura and Marik raced back through the old temple, retracing their steps to get back to the ceiling gap they entered through. The two relied on each other along the way, as traps they hadn’t tripped off upon their entrance suddenly sprang to life, slowing them down in the process. Reaching the room through which they made their rooftop entrance, the two stopped short upon realizing that the building had sealed shut all exits, leaving them trapped.

 

Bakura swore loudly, scanning the room for another way out. He found none. Before he could pull out his medallion to order his crew to carve out their own exit, the stone sentinels stationed throughout the building began to crack as they become animate.

 

“That can’t be good,” Marik said. Bakura motioned for the man to come closer to him, in order to better watch each other’s backs. “Keep close, there’s no telling with these old statues are capable of.” Marik was more than happy to stick to that plan, as he had little confidence in the ability to defeat stone statues with mere knifes.

 

“So what’s the plan, captain?” Marik said, once he reached Bakura’s side. The sentinels were clearly targeting the two of them, as their eyes glowed in their direction. It was unnerving, to say the least. “I have a feeling they didn’t much appreciate us barging in here like this.” Bakura didn’t see fit to respond to Marik’s second statement.

 

“The plan is to not die,” he said. “Think you can manage that?” With that, the two momentarily split up to avoid a powerful blow of one of the sentinels’ giant weapons.

 

“Not-dying is my favorite thing to do, I’ll have you know.” It forever surprised Bakura the situations in which Marik would crack a joke. A man after his own heart, truly.

 

The two soon resigned themselves to the fact that there was no secret switch to be found that would suddenly unlock the doors and allow them to escape. The walls were sealed tightly, with not even a sliver of sunlight reaching in. The only source of light came from the vibrant green glow of the sentinels’ eyes and the strange markings overing the walls. Symbols that Marik and Bakura quickly recognized as being similar to the ones on Bakura’s medallion.

 

“Bakura!” Marik said, hurrying to the man’s side, out of the way of a giant mace slamming into the ground where he once stood moments before. “Give me the summoning stone! Quickly!”

 

“The what?” Bakura was only half-listening, as most of his attention was focused on not getting hit by the surprising sharp weapons of the sentinels or crushed by his own panicking crew of monsters running around the deceptively small room.

 

“The medallion you fool! Give it to me- I have an idea!”

 

Not one to argue when faced with very possible and horrifyingly painful death despite his strict “no share” policy, Bakura snatched the medallion from around his neck and tossed it to Marik.

 

“You better know what you’re doing or we’re both dead!” Bakura knew that went without saying, but he felt the need to re-emphasize the dire situation they were in.

 

“Would you hush and let me concentrate! Some of us do more than just whisper random words at ancient objects and hope things work out!” Before Bakura could offer a retort, Marik tackled him to the ground to dodge… a stone shuriken? Deciding not to question it, Marik began to work, supping the summoning stone in both hands while chanting words in a language Bakura thought he had long-forgotten.

 

Apparently summoning took time. Bakura watched as Marik closed his eyes, his words becoming a steady hum that strangely did not get drowned out by the sounds of the giants attempting to kill them. Bakura took up guard of the man, making sure that no stray rock or weapon touched Marik as he did…. Whatever it was he was doing. Bakura would normally be doubtful that chanting would be an effective tactic to use against giant armed guards, but in this instance he was willing to try out anything.

 

Just as Bakura bodily dragged Marik out of the way of another devastating attack, Marik’s eyes opened, revealing a similar green glow as the rest of the room. Marik then began to walk towards the center of the room, with Bakura following close behind. To his amazement, the fighting sentinels suddenly stopped in their tracks. Whatever Marik was doing was working.

 

When Marik finished the last of his chants, the sentinels returned to their original positions, weapons sheathed. One by one, they closed their glowing eyes and the lights around the room flickered out. With a mighty screeching sound, the doors and ceiling opening slowly opened, revealing the outside world once again. Task accomplished, Marik blinked twice before returning to normal. It took Bakura a moment to process the silence that came with not being under attack by giant magical statues before speaking.

 

“Wha-? How?” Bakura sputtered for a moment before gathering himself. “You know what? Let’s just get the heck outta here.” Nodding his agreement, Marik spoke a few words to the remaining creatures of Bakura’s crew, who quickly gathered to provide their transportation back to the ship.

 

* * *

 

“So,” Marik began, after rearranging Bakura’s quarters once again in order to accommodate the new addition to the room. “Are all of your pirating adventures like this, or is that like a one-time deal?” Marik once again kicked his feet up as he made himself comfortable, something that Bakura did not make note of in favor of admiring his new throne.

 

“Yes, actually. They _are_ all like that, basically,” Bakura confirmed, finally satisfied with the placementor his new seating. “I told you before- I don’t go after basic treasures. I only steal what’s worth stealing, and if it’s guarded by magical stone giants, it’s worth stealing.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Marik said. “You know, I was referring to the part where I saved your life. Is that a regular gig or…?” Marik trailed off in laughter at Bakura’s fake outrage.

 

“I would have gotten out on my own,” Bakura said. “Eventually.”

 

“Eventually, I’m sure.” Marik did not sound like he had faith in his own words at all, but Bakura decided to let it slide. This time. “But seeing as _you_ got something for yourself out of this trip and I didn’t despite saving your life, I think it’s only fair that I get a cut.”

 

“As much as I hate to say this, you’re right,” Bakura said. “As someone, once told me, I should learn to say ‘thank you’ more often.” Bakura got up to stand in front of where Marik was seated. “I think it’s only right for you to keep the summoning stone, as you call it. Next time we venture out, you can pick what we steal. Sound like a plan?” Bakura put out his hand for Marik to shake.

 

“Works for me, partner,” Marik said, putting his hand in Bakura’s. Once the two shook hands, however, Marik did not release Bakura’s and as expected. Instead, he pulled the man into his lap, making Bakura yelp in surprise. Bakura put up a weak struggle for only a few moments before making himself comfortable.

 

“Besides,” Bakura said, once he was situated. “You’ve got to tell me _how_ you know my native tongue, and how you know how to handle this stone in the first place.” Marik laughed, shifting to get comfortable under Bakura’s weight. He had expected the man to be in a rush to get up, but he had no complaints about this development either.

 

“Well then make yourself comfy. I’m known to talk a lot.”


End file.
